Father Hummer instantly rose. “Of course, Mikhail, and I do apologize for barging in at such an inopportune moment. The ladies were very agitated and it seemed the most expedient way to alleviate their fears.”
“Raven can come back with us,” Margaret offered solicitously.
Raven knew she would never survive a car ride with the woman. Shelly was nodding her head eagerly, giving Mikhail her best smile. “Thank you so much, Mikhail. I would love to discuss this further with you, maybe take some notes?”
“Of course, Miss Evans.” Mikhail handed her his business card. “I am swamped with work right now, and Raven and I want to be married as soon as possible, but I will do my best to find some time.” He was ushering his guests to the door, using his large, muscular frame and his beguiling smile to prevent anyone from touching Raven. “Thank you, Mrs. Summers, for offering to look after Raven for me, but we were interrupted, and I intend to make certain she does not leave me without the all-important ring.”
When Raven moved to step around him, he cut her off, his body so graceful and subtle, that his movement was not noticed. His hand slid down her arm, shackled her fragile wrist. “Thank you for coming,” she called softly from behind him, afraid that if she spoke too loud her head would shatter into a thousand fragments.
When their visitors had left, Mikhail dragged her protectively into his arms, his face a mask of dark menace. “I am sorry, little one, that you had to endure such a thing.” He carried her into his house and made for the library.
Raven could hear soft words in his own language muttered under his breath. He was swearing and it made her smile. “She isn’t evil, Mikhail; she’s twisted, fanatical. It was like touching the mind of a burning crusader. She believes what she’s doing is right.” She rubbed the top of her head against the rigid set of his jaw.
“She is beneath contempt.” He spat the words. “She is obscene.” Very gently Mikhail deposited her in the comfort of his armchair. “She came to test me, to bring a priest into my home and try to outwit me. Her brush in my mind was clumsy and inept. She uses her gift to mark others for murder. She read only what I allowed.”
“Mikhail! She believes in vampires. How could she possibly think you’re a walking corpse? You have unusual gifts, but I can’t see you murdering a child to keep yourself alive. You go to church; you’re wearing a cross. The woman is nuts.” She rubbed at her pounding temples in an effort to relieve the pain.
Chapter Six
Mikhail loomed over her, a dark shadow holding one of his herb concoctions in his hand. “And what if I was a mythical vampire, little one, holding you captive in my lair?”
She smiled up at his serious face, the pain in his brooding eyes. “I would trust you with my life, Mikhail, vampire or no. And I would trust you with the life of my children. You’re arrogant and sometimes overbearing, but you could never be evil. If you are a vampire, then a vampire is not the creature of the legends.”
He moved away from her, not wanting her to see how much her words meant to him. Such total, unconditional acceptance. It didn’t matter to him that she didn’t know what she was saying. He felt the truth of her words. “Most people have a dark side, Raven, I more than others. I am capable of extreme violence, cruelty even, but I am not a vampire. I am a predator, first and foremost, but I am not a vampire.” His voice was husky, strangled.
Raven moved to close the distance between them, to touch the edge of his mouth, smooth a deep line. “I never thought such a thing. You sound like you believe such a terrible being exists. Mikhail, if such a thing was true, I would know you could not be one of them. You always judge yourself so harshly. I can feel the good in you.”
“Can you?” he asked grimly. “Drink this.”
“It better not put me to sleep. I’m going back to the inn to my own bed sometime this night,” she told him firmly as she took the glass from him. Her voice teased him, but her eyes were anxious. “I do feel the good in you, Mikhail. I see it in everything you do. You put everyone else first in your life.”
He closed his eyes in pain. “Is that what you think, Raven?”
She studied the contents of the glass, wondering why her words were hurting him. “I know it. I have done what is being asked of you, yet I did not have to follow through and bring the killer to justice. That must eat away at you all the time.”
“You give me far too much credit, little one, but I thank you for your faith in me.” His hand curled around the nape of her neck. “You are not drinking. It will help with your headache.” His fingers found her temples with their soothing magic. “How can you go back to that inn when we both know the assassins are staying there? It is the old woman who leads them to our people. She is curious about you already.”
“She can’t possibly believe I’m a vampire, Mikhail. Why would I be in danger? I might even be of some help to you.” A mischievous smile curved her soft mouth. “I can hear so much better these days.” She toasted him with the glass and drank the mixture.
“There is no argument when your safety is involved. I will not have you in the middle of this battle.” His black gaze was clearly troubled.
“We agreed to compromise. Your world and mine. I have to be my own person, Mikhail. I have to make my own decisions. I know you would never let me go through the torment of tracking a killer by myself. I want to help you, be there for you. That’s what a partnership is.”
“Being apart from you even under normal circumstances would torment me. How can I tolerate such a thing as you being in the same house with those who murdered my sister?”
She attempted to tease him, wanting the darkness to recede from his eyes. “Do one of your sleeping numbers on yourself, or teach me how to do it. I’ll be more than happy to put you out.”
His hand slipped around her throat experimentally. “I bet you would. How does your head feel, little one? Better?”
“Much, thank you. So, tell me what you know so far.” Raven watched him pace across the hardwood floor, all restless energy. “I have done this Mikhail. I’m not an amateur, and I’m not stupid. Mrs. Summers may look like a sweet old lady, but she’s very sick. If she’s targeting people as vampires and has a fanatical following, a lot more people could be hurt. And these people must believe Mrs. Summers. They killed the woman...”
“Noelle,” he supplied softly. “Her name was Noelle.”
Her eyes touched his face, her mind flooding his with warmth and comfort. “Noelle,” she echoed gently, “was killed in a textbook style for vampires. Stake, beheading, garlic. This is a sick group. We at least have a place to start. I think it would be safe to assume Mr. Summers is involved. So that’s two of them.”
“That silly girl Shelly is a blind. They are using her to help them by asking her ridiculous questions. She is not directly involved; they do not trust her to keep her mouth shut. Her brother planted the idea of studying folklore in her head and this tour is supposedly a research trip for her. She is easily led by him.” He raked a hand through his thick hair. He needed to feed soon. There was a dark, cold anger in him. It crawled through his body, dangerous and deadly. Jacob was unscrupulous, even with his sister, it seemed. And he had looked upon Raven with lust.
Raven looked up and found unblinking eyes on her. They were dark, fathomless, the eyes of a hunter. A prickle of unease ran down her spine. She felt her hand tremble as she smoothed out her skirt. “What is it?” Sometimes Mikhail looked like a stranger, not the warm man she knew with laughter and tenderness in his heated gaze, but someone calculating and cold, someone more lethal and cunning than any she could imagine. Automatically her mind reached out to his.
Do not!
He slammed a block down hard.
Raven’s lashes fluttered against a sudden spurt of tears. Rejection was painful, and coming from Mikhail it hurt like hell. “Why, Mikhail? Why are you shutting me out? You need me. I know you do. You’re so willing to help everybody, be everything for everybody. I’m supposed to be your partner,
be all things, everything to you. Let me help you.” She approached him slowly, cautiously.
“You do not know what could happen, Raven.” He stepped backwards away from temptation, away from her pain.
She smiled. “You always help me, Mikhail. You look after me. I’m asking you to trust me enough to let me be what you need.” He was allowing his mind block to fragment, bit by bit. She sensed grief mixed with rage at Noelle’s senseless murder and fear for Raven’s safety. Love, strong and growing, a hunger, sexual and physical. Raw need. Someone definitely needed to love and comfort this man.
“I need you to do as I ask you,” he said in desperation, fighting the beast lifting its head hungrily.
Her laughter was soft, enticing. “No, you don’t. Too many people think your word is law. You need someone to defy you a little bit. I know you won’t hurt me, Mikhail. I can feel your fear of yourself. You think there’s something in you I can’t love, some kind of monster you’re afraid for me to see. I know you better than you know yourself.”
“You are so reckless, Raven, so heedless of danger.” He gripped the back of a chair so hard the wood threatened to disintegrate into dust. As it was, it would hold the imprint of his fingers for all time.
“Danger, Mikhail?” She tipped her head to one side, her hair falling in a slide over one shoulder. Her hands went to the top button of her blouse. “I would never be in danger from you, even if you were furious with me. The only danger right now is to my clothes.” She took a step back, laughing again, letting the sound warm him, ignite the fuse deep inside him.
Heat coiled, spread; need slammed into him, hard and urgent. Hunger tore at him, a blind red haze. “You, little one, are playing with fire, and I am totally out of control.” He made one last attempt to save her. Why couldn’t she see how selfish he really was? How he had taken over her life and would never release her? He was the monster she couldn’t see. Perhaps with the rest of the world cold logic and justice ruled him, but not with her. With Raven he was taken over by emotions with which he was so unfamiliar that he could not control them. He did things he felt were unconscionable. He let her see the violence in his mind, tearing her clothes, taking her body without thought or control.
She answered him in her mind, warmth, love, her body eager for his, receptive, accepting of his violent side. She had total trust and faith in his feelings for her, in his commitment to her.
He swore softly, ripping the clothes from his fettered body, leaping upon her like an attacking jungle cat. “Mikhail, I love this dress,” she whispered against his throat, laughter still spilling into his mind. Laughter. Joy. No fear.
“Get out of the damned thing,” he said hoarsely, not realizing he was confirming her belief in him.
She took her time, teasing him by fumbling at buttons, making him find the hook in her skirt. “You do not know what you are doing,” he objected raggedly, but his hands were gentle on her body, carefully stripping away her clothes until she was all bare satin skin and long silky hair.
Mikhail curled strong fingers around the nape of her neck. She felt so small and fragile, her skin warm. She had a woman’s haunting scent, like wild honey, a breath of fresh air. He backed her into the bookcase, his hands shaping her body, stroking the soft swell of her breast, absorbing the feel of her into his skin, his tissues, his very insides. He lowered his head, found the dark tip of her nipple with his tongue. The demon in him receded at the feel of her soft skin, her acceptance of his nature. He didn’t deserve her.
Raven’s body went weak at the first touch of his mouth, so hot and demanding, fastened on her breast. The shelf behind her held her up, pushing against the bare skin of her bottom. Excitement surged through her, anticipation. His eyes drifted over her with so much hunger, so much possession. With so much tenderness. That melted her heart, made her want to cry that he could have so much feeling for her. Everywhere his gaze traveled, her skin burned for him, her body ached for his touch.
She reached up to loosen his hair, to fill her hands with it, to revel in her ability to smooth her fingertips over his heavy muscles. She could feel him tremble under her caressing hands, feel the wildness in him striving to break free. It touched something wild in her. She wanted to feel him in her arms, trembling for her, his hard muscles against her soft skin, his body surging into hers. She sent him the erotic pictures dancing in her head as she tasted his skin with her soft mouth.
His hands were everywhere, and so were hers. His mouth blazed fire, and so did hers. His heart pounded, and hers matched it. Their blood surged like molten lava. His fingers found her moist and open to him. Mikhail dragged her to the floor, lifting her hips so he could join them. Blood roared in his ears, his every emotion swirling together in a violent storm of need. The harder and deeper he thrust, the more soft and welcoming she became. Her body was hot and tight, taking his, accepting his storm.
Hunger raged dangerously. He craved the sweet taste of her, wanted the ecstasy of the ritual exchange. If he fed... He groaned at the temptation. He would never be able to stop without needing to replenish her. He could not do that. She had to consciously make the decision to become fully a part of his world. It was too big a risk. If she did not survive, he would follow her into the unknown. He knew exactly what the ancients meant when they said one lifemate could not survive the passing of the other. He would not want to live in the world without her. There would be no Mikhail without Raven.
His body, his needs, his battered emotions were taking over again, pushing him to the very edge of control. He had never known such a depth of feeling, such a total, encompassing love for another. She was everything. His air. His breath. His heart. Mikhail’s mouth found hers in long, drugging kisses, moved to her throat, her breast, found his mark. One taste. Only one.
Raven moved in his arms, turned her head to give him better access, her hands entwined in his hair. “I’d better marry you, Mikhail. You need me desperately.” He lifted his head, looked at her face, so beautiful with his lovemaking, so accepting of him and his needs. Her heart wrapped his in love, her mind soothed his, fed his, teased his, matched the wild-ness in him. His hands framed her face, his black eyes staring into her blue-violet ones, drowning in his feelings for her. Then he was smiling.
“Mikhail,” she protested as he very gently eased out of her.
He turned her over, dragging her hips back toward his. When he entered her, his hands pinning her small waist, he felt exultant. She was safe! Joy surged through him and he gave himself up to the sheer pleasure of her body. He moved; she moved. She was incredibly tight, fiery hot, velvet soft. The combination was explosive.
The wolves had said he no longer knew joy, but Raven had brought it back to him. His body sang with it, shone with it. Twice he felt her body ripple, pulse, and still he went on wanting their bodies to be one for all eternity. The dark shadow across his soul was lifting. This small, beautiful woman had given him that. He built the pace of their rhythm, reveling in the way her body followed the lead of his. He felt her body clench, grip, heard her cry out over and over, soft little mewling sounds in her throat that sent him over the edge. His own body burst into flames, carried them both into the sky so that Raven called his name as her anchor.
Mikhail’s hands were gentle as he helped her to lie down. He caressed her silky hair, bent to kiss her tenderly. “You have no idea what you did for me tonight. Thank you, Raven.”
Her eyes were closed, lashes lying like two dark crescents against her soft skin. She smiled. “Someone has to show you what love is, Mikhail. Not possession or ownership, but real unconditional love.” Her hand rose and, even with her eyes closed, her fingertips unerringly found the lines around his mouth. “You need to remember how to play, to laugh. You need to learn to like yourself more.”
The hard edges of his mouth softened, curved. “You sound like the priest.”
“I hope you confessed that you took advantage of me,” she teased.
Mikhail’s breath caught in his throa
t. Guilt washed over him. He
had
taken advantage. Maybe not the first time, when he was so out of control after such isolation. It had been necessary to make the exchange to save her life. But the second time had been pure selfishness. He had wanted the sexual rush, the total completion of the ritual. And he had uttered the ritual words. They were bound. He knew it, felt the right-ness of it, felt the healing in his soul only a true lifemate could effect.
“Mikhail? I was teasing you.” The long lashes fluttered, lifted so her eyes could confirm what her fingertips tracing his frown told her.
His teeth caught her finger, his tongue stroking over her skin. His mouth was hot, erotic, his eyes burning down at her. Answering heat leapt into her eyes. Raven laughed softly. “You have it all, don’t you? Charm, you’re so sexy you should be locked up, and you have a smile men would kill for. Or women, however you want to look at it.”
He bent to kiss her, one hand closing over her breast possessively. “You need to mention what a great lover I am. Men need to hear these things.”
Dark Prince (Dark Series - book 1) Page 13